


Will You Stay In New York?

by theyrechasingme



Series: what we could be [1]
Category: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Genre: And like, F/M, Struggling, and also really stupid, they're just confused and soft and clearly in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29004294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyrechasingme/pseuds/theyrechasingme
Summary: "Ask me to stay in New York.""What?"(Beth and Benny are together, except they’re not, except they so are.)(Or, the one where they realise how stupid they've been.)
Relationships: Beth Harmon/Benny Watts
Series: what we could be [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128176
Comments: 46
Kudos: 207





	1. Chapter 1

**LEXINGTON**

Beth returns to the US after spending six months doing _nothing_ and _enjoying_ herself in Russia, playing non competitive chess, not drinking any alcohol and taking a real, genuine break from her life. She decides that after six months she is ready to return to her home, to the world of ultra competitive chess and to her friends. 

Jolene calls her once a week and they talk about what’s changed in their lives, how her studies are going, if her man has left his wife yet. ‘ _Cracker, relax, I’m not in a rush to settle down with anybody’_. Harry calls a couple of times and it’s nostalgic, a warm discussion filled with kindness and laughter and she hears from Mike and Matt a couple of times, they’ve both become a part of FIDE and travel the world, organising and improving chess.

She doesn’t get a call from Benny, nor did she expect to. She also doesn’t call him, she thinks he wouldn’t expect her to either. She thinks that maybe time away and space might be good for them, maybe then they can be friends again. She would like that; to be friends with Benny. But she would understand that maybe it’s not them, for him, that maybe being _nothing_ is what’s best.

She arrives in Lexington to stacks of mail and dust over every surface. There’s nothing in the fridge apart from an old bottle of orange juice and butter. Arguably she should get rid of both of those things because there’s no way they’re in date. She doesn’t even need to open them to check. She considers calling Benny, maybe sending him a thank you note for his help six months ago but that feels silly and _late._

She fiddles through the mail to find various invitations to exhibitions and opens where she can play or simply show her face and make the event special. She’s missed some of them, it seems the invitations were sent many months ago and the closest one is already in ten days just over in Indianapolis. She doesn’t even bother unpacking or taking her makeup off before she finds herself dialling the number at the bottom of the invitation to RSVP yes to a very stunned organiser on the other end of the line.

“ _Miss Harmon we didn’t think… well, it was a bit of a long shot. We heard you had stayed in Russia.”_

“I’m back.” She says simply, never one for unnecessary conversation.

“ _That’s incredible, we would love to host you. Would you be willing to hold a talk? And will you be playing?”_

“Uh.”

* * *

**INDIANAPOLIS**

Indianapolis is hot and humid and her hair sticks to the back of her neck. It’s been some time since she cut it and she’s beginning to regret that when the sweat begins to drip down her back.

The Indianapolis exhibition lasts three days and she sees him on the second, because he turns up late. Of course he does, obnoxious narcissist, he constantly needs to be the centre of attention and turning up late, in the middle of day two is the way to do that. The second day’s games are laid out all over the private hotel area, reserved for guests (which she is) and spectators (which she also is), and she wanders around from game to game, looking at each player's tactics and direction. 

Some ignore her, others try to, and more just blatantly stare. Eventually she realises she might be more of a distraction than a welcome presence and decides to go analyse boards of finished games. At least then they’ll be no one to distract. 

That’s when she sees him. He’s wearing that stupid cowboy hat with that stupid knife on his hip when he waltzes into the hotel lobby like he owns it. She’s on the mezzanine of the first floor but her eyes land on him like a bee to honey. She feels like the wind has been knocked out of her, like a bucket of cold water was poured over her head and she was punched in the gut all at once. He looks good, his hair is longer and his eyes are bright and if she’s not mistaken he seems to be looking for someone.

She swallows, frozen on the spot. She wants to step away from his line of vision, to disappear into the background and escape his attention but then his eyes fall on her like he could just _tell_ she was there and he _smirks._ He holds one hand up to wave and she can’t help but smile and wave back.

“Benny.” She says as she makes her way down the stairs.

“Beth.” He says, using the same tone.

“I didn’t know you’d be here.”

She slides up to stand beside him, both watching the row of games before them. He clicks his tongue. “How would you, when you don’t call."

She raises both eyebrows, surprised this conversation is happening right now, in public where everyone seems to be trying not to stare at them. _‘Beth Harmon and Benny watts they used to be co champions and-’_

“You told me not to.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He agrees, looking around at the games happening before them.

“So why _are_ you here?”

“I was invited.”

“To play?”

“Sure.”

She frowns, thinking back to the programme she read this morning. “Your name isn’t on the list.”

“Neither is yours.” He remarks.

She nods, resisting the urge to smile. “Touché.”

He hesitates only for a moment before he speaks. “Wanna play?” 

“What, so I can destroy you?” She smiles.

He can’t help but smile back. “You took a long break, I think your level might have dropped off a bit.”

“How dare you.” She cries with no heat to it. “I’ll have you know that I’m world champion.”

“Are you now? I hadn’t heard.”

“I beat _four_ soviet chess players.”

He tries not to laugh. “That’s a lot of soviet chess players.”

Her eyes fall on him again and she suddenly remembers the five weeks she spent living in his shitty little apartment, sharing his bed and his furniture and his crockery, sharing food and thoughts and jokes and learning how to be a better player. She remembers the Benny she got to know in those five weeks, the Benny she _missed_.

“You look good.” She comments.

He smirks. “What, you like my hair?” And he says it like a joke, like this is something they do but she can feel the question radiating from him in waves. She knows this is him, dropping his toe in the water without actually, properly committing to anything. She’s okay with that. She can do that.

She cocks her head, her palms already beginning to sweat and the tips of her ears turning pink.

“I always like your hair.”

* * *

They stay tangled in bed sheets and sweat and the morning sunlight that flows through the open curtain of Beth's hotel room- _‘yours is nicer than mine’_ he comments. Her cheek is pressed against his back and she moves with the rise and fall of his breathing.

“You gonna talk about chess again?” She asks, her voice soft and airy.

His body shakes with laughter that she feels against her skin. “I seem to remember you not liking that.” She presses a kiss between his shoulder blades and then sits up. She begins to pull the covers off to take a shower, or make coffee or get dressed or whatever but he’s not having it. “Nope.” He says quickly, turning around and reaching for her arm to pull her against his chest. She lands with a thump and a laugh. “Don’t ruin it just yet.”

“You missed me.” She notes, fighting a self satisfied grin.

“I told you that a while ago.”

“You did.”

And they lie there as the sun rises and the day begins, just curled in each other’s arms, their breaths calming and mingling into one. She wishes they could stay like this forever, just hit pause on the world and live out this fantasy where nobody can find them and nobody can see them. 

“I wasn’t going to come.” He says eventually, piercing through the calm. “But then I heard you were here.”

She swallows and he feels the movement through his bones. “You could have called.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“You always know what to say.”

“Not with you.” And his voice is barely a murmur but she hears it and it lines itself on the inside of her eyelids. _Not with you. Not with you. Not with you._ He almost asks her to come to New York, the words so nearly pass his lips but he stops himself because he doesn’t think he can bear being rejected by Beth Harmon again, not when he gets to see her like this anyway. He can settle for the only part of her she can share, he doesn’t need more because he’s scared he’ll lose it all if he asks. 

She doesn’t know what to say now so she chooses to change the direction of the conversation. “When are you going back to New York?”

He sighs, she knows it’s about the change of direction. “Today.”

“You’re not staying for the final day?”

“I couldn’t care less about the _Indianapolis exhibition._ ”

Neither of them makes a move to leave first, neither of them wants to break the peace, neither of them is _ready_ for that. So she stays there and so does he, clinging to what they have in this moment, not willing to give it up. Her fingers trace shapes against his stomach and his thumb brushes back and forth against her shoulder.

There’s something about Benny that makes her feel at ease, something that makes her toes curl and her stomach clench and her heart slam against her ribcage. He’s smart, that’s for sure, the only person who she's known to keep up with her. She doesn't feel like a freak, she doesn’t feel like the odd one out or like she’s out of place. With him she makes sense.

There’s a knock at the door. “Miss Harmon?” A voice floats.

She feels him freeze beneath her fingers. “What is it?” She calls, her voice echoing into the former silence.

“Uh, Mr Rogers has asked to remind you of your talk. It takes place in an hour.”

“Okay.” She says loudly again. “Thank you.”

Footsteps that she didn’t hear in the first place retreat and now she’s painfully aware of Benny’s thoughts wiring out of control. She doesn’t say anything as she presses a kiss against the exposed skin of his stomach and peels away from him. She feels his fingers flinch to pull her back but he fights them. She stands from her bed and yawns, stretching her arms above her head as she picks up her hotel dressing down.

She sits at her dressing table to prepare herself and watches in the mirror as he drags himself to his feet. She watches him dress himself, painfully slow and messy, fumbling at buttons and zips and blowing the hair from his face. She realises she’s staring when he catches her eye in the mirror, but she doesn’t look away and neither does he.

They stare as she shrugs his jacket on and collects his hat from where she threw it last night. “Bye Beth.” He says simply but his eyes say it all and there are so many things he means in _bye Beth; I hope I see you again._

She agrees. “Bye Benny.”

* * *

**VIENNA**

They run into each other again three weeks later at the Vienna Tournament in Europe. They catch each other’s eyes through the huddle of fans that crowd Beth everytime she walks through the hotel. She leaves a spare key for him at reception and he comes up once he finishes his matches for the day. ( _Your room is always nicer than mine,_ he comments. She smirks, _Become world champion and then maybe they’ll give you a better one._ )

She hears the door open and then a pause before Benny speaks. “Beth?”

“Taking a bath.”

She doesn’t know what she expects but it’s certainly wasn’t that he would walk into the bathroom. He’s already taken his hat and jacket off and he’s wearing a black T-shirt with the already short sleeves rolled up shorter and jeans also rolled up at the cuff. He keeps his distance, his body leaning against the doorframe as he cocks his head and smiles

“You look like a drowned rat.” he comments.

She’s submerged by the water with only her head poking up from under the foam. “You look like a pirate.”

“It’s a tough look to upkeep.” he remarks, stroking his chin. “But I try my best.”

Their eyes never leave each other, couldn’t bear it honestly. Her body is electrified with the concept of his presence and the thought of what will happen next and she can tell he feels it too.

“I’m nearly finished.”

“Okay.” he says absentmindedly, finally choosing to close the space between them. 

He walks a painfully long five steps towards her and the water moves and swirls as she subconsciously sits up higher. He pushes the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ears as he searches her eyes for permission that she’s embarrassingly too eager to give. He holds her face in his hands, gentle and soft like she could break between his fingers and kisses her slowly, like they’ve got all the time in the world and she feels it the tips of her toes. He pulls away before she’s ready and saunters out of the bathroom, practically leaving her in the dust of her own lust because she _wants_ him.

“You’re an asshole.” She calls after him and he just laughs, his chuckle echoing around the room and in her body.

Indianapolis was feral, it was like two worlds colliding into an enclosed space that contained the explosion and fed it back into their veins. Vienna is soft, and slow and careful with fingers tha caress exposed skin and corners of lips. They’re exploring new territory, the way skin feels against each other, the way her lips feel against his chest or his against her thighs, the way her fingers wrap around the strands of his hair or his teeth bite at her neck.

The sun is still out but it’s late afternoon and there’s a breeze as they sit out of her balcony, sharing a cigarette with their arms touching. They’re both alarmingly aware of the contact but neither can decide whether it’s enough or too much. He refused to put a shirt back on but settled on a pair of trousers while she wraps a nightgown around her with an aggressive tie of the belt around her waist.

“What did you do for six months?” He asks as they both watch the city of Vienna continue with its day, like they’re gods standing above them, judging their decision to be so mundane and pedestrian.

“I perfected my Russian.” She says, blowing out a puff of smoke. “I started to learn French and I played ultra uncompetitive chess with people who didn’t want anything from me.”

“Everybody wants a piece of Beth Harmon.” He comments absentmindedly.

“She’s a hot commodity.” She remarks about herself. “You know I came home to a dozen letters from the USCF begging me to attend a bunch of their events?”

He scoffs. “Don’t they hate you?”

“Exactly.”

“So, what? You’re famous now and everyone loves you?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “They just want a piece of me, like hyenas biting into a carcass.”

“You’re far from dead.”

“I feel it sometimes.” She says softly. “How fragile my existence is, how all of this could disappear in an instant.” she hands him the cigarette, well aware of his eyes on her.

“It’s not good to think like that.” he says carefully, trapping the cigarette between his lips to inhale.

“Says the pessimist.”

“I’m a realist.”

“Only pessimists say that.”

“This won’t disappear.” he mumbles. “You’ve worked too hard and fought too much for all of this to just vanish.”

“So you’re an optimist now?”

He chuckles. “No. I just believe in Beth Harmon.”

She finally looks at him, her mouth partially open to steady her breathing. “That's a bad move. If this were a chess board you just gave up your queen.”

“I know you think you’re smarter than everyone.” He starts, smirking. “But in this rare instance, you’re wrong.”

“I maintain that that is foolish.”

He just presses his lips against her shoulder, the contact sending shivers down her spine. “Do you believe in me?” 

“Yes.” She breathes. “Yes, of course.”

“Then we’ll be fools together.” 

Her heart soars in her chest and squeezes around her throat until she can’t bear it anymore. She lifts his chin and wraps both arms around his neck until they’re kissing again and her skin is on fire. Her mind is exploding into tiny little fireworks that cloud her thoughts, she’s never been so out of control as when she’s kissing him. She thinks she could do this until she dies, until the world crumbles around them, until they're all that is left.


	2. Chapter 2

**PARIS**

A month goes by until they see each other again in Paris. She’s on edge the whole plane ride and can’t help remembering what happened last time and suddenly all she fucking wants is a drink. Her fingers are itching to wrap around a bottle of anything and she feels the blood prickling beneath her skin.

She doesn’t leave him a key at reception or even say hello to him when they see each other. She must look like she’s not okay because he just stares at her, his eyes clouded with worry as she walks past. She plays two games that day that she can barely focus on but wins anyway, they take her longer than they should and he notices from wherever he is.

She means to go to her room, honest to god she does but her fingers press a different button and then she’s standing outside the door of what is decidedly not her room. She should go, she should run, the blood is in her ears and she can feel her heartbeat in her stomach but she knocks anyway.

Benny opens the door and both his eyebrows fly up. “Beth.” he says dumbly. “I was about to… what are you doing here?”

“I want a drink.” she says simply. “I really, really want a drink.”

He stares at her, his eyes sad and then he steps away from the door. “Come in.” She closes the door behind her as he starts to tidy the room. “Sorry about the mess, I didn’t expect…”

“You’re right.” she comments and he glances at her. “My room is always nicer than yours.”

“I’m not a world champion.”

“But you’re _Benny watts.”_ she drawls sarcastically and he scoffs a laugh.

She sits on the ottoman at the foot of his bed while he shoves dirty clothes back into his suitcase and opens a window to let some air in. He's wearing his version of casual clothing, like the way he dressed in those five weeks before paris. All T-shirts and jeans and those chains around his neck and that ring on his finger, his hair is unkempt and she wonders if he owns a brush. She realises she’s been staring into nothing for a while now because she finds him leaning against the desk, his arms crossed and his head cocked.

“Wanna play?” he offers, pointing to his board.

“Yes, please.” She needs the distraction.

They settle on the floor with their legs crossed and the radio playing softly in the background and they play round after round of speed chess. Beth wins most of the games but Benny wins a few, the earlier ones where she’s still in a daze and she can practically taste the vodka on her tongue. The more time she spends in his room, surrounded by his belongings and his smell and the more she looks at him, the less and less she wants to drink. If anything, he’s a new addiction which isn’t a good way to get over a previous one but she doesn’t care, not when she wishes she could melt him down and inject him directly into her veins.

“How did you stay sober in Russia?” he asks carefully, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands as he looks at the board.

“Uh…” she trails off, her cheeks growing hot. “I just thought about you.” that feels like a big revelation but Beth’s never been one for lying.

“What?” he breathes, his neck snapping up to look at her but she refuses to look back.

She moves her bishop. “I just thought about how disappointed you would be. How it would probably break your heart. I know you didn’t want to hear from me and that I hurt you, I know that, but…” she trails off again. “I just kept thinking about you and I couldn't do it, I wouldn't dare.” 

She realises he hasn’t made a move yet and finally looks up. He’s frozen solid, his eyes swimming with emotions she can’t decipher, she’s never been good at that. Has he stopped breathing? Is he alive? She wants to crawl into a hole and disappear because he’s looking at her like she’s a brand new star in the sky, like she’s a new discovery on earth.

“I called.” he says eventually, blinking.

She frowns. “What?”

“I called you. When you were in Russia, I called. I got your number off Harry and I called and you didn’t pick up so I… so I didn’t call again. I thought you didn’t want to hear from me.”

“You thought I ignored you?”

“Pretty much.” he agrees, swallowing. “I understood. I said some hurtful things that I fully meant at the time and I was… i was stupid. I was wrapped up in my own self importance and wasn’t kind to you when you needed it most. So when you didn’t pick up, I understood.”

Her chest is heaving, like she just ran a marathon and she realises that her breathing spiked as his story hit closer and closer to home. She clears her throat, rubbing her sweaty palms on her knees. “I think…” She starts carefully, looking around the room. “I think we were both stupid.”

He laughs, a laugh that rips out of him without warning and she laughs back because she’s right, for people as intellectually superior as them, they are incredibly _dumb._ They spend the rest of the night playing chess and laughing and smiling and they fall asleep next to each other, fully clothed and grinning like two teenagers who have never touched each other before and Beth doesn’t think about drinking even once, not when Benny looks at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.

* * *

**OSLO**

Both of them give up the pretence that they want separate rooms and Benny just moves into Beth’s much nicer room the moment he arrives. He called weeks ago to tell the federation he didn’t need one for himself, although he didn’t tell them who he would be sharing with. He thinks it would have ended up in Chess Review like some gossip magazine masquerading as news.

She’s setting up her board, wearing her casual clothes that only Benny has ever seen her wear when he walks in, suitcase in hand and smiling.

She grins. “Hi.” She says in that breathless voice of hers that makes him feel dirty. “I missed you.”

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m not going to be able to control what I do to you.” he assures, dropping his suitcase to the ground like he’s come home or something.

Her grin turns wicked. “You promise?”

 _Jesus_.

He doesn’t even bother taking his coat off before they’re making out like horny teenagers left alone for the first time. She pushes the jacket off his shoulders until it crumples to the floor and his fingers trace the exposed skin of her midriff before trailing upwards to the back of her bra. His fingers burn against her waist and she feels like she’s being set on fire right then and there, her toes curling and the blood rushing to her ears. She has no fucking clue where she is right now.

The phone rings and she begrudgingly pulls away from him, her lips dragging through his teeth. “I gotta get that.”

“Fuck it.” He growls, his fingers tangled in bright orange hair as he kisses her again. They break apart only momentarily so he can pull her shirt off and she’s wearing the ivory bra he once said was his favourite. ( _You have a favourite bra of mine?_ She’d laughed. He nodded, all serious. _Yeah it’s the one I can see your nipples through_. She hit him with her cushion.)

The phone rings louder if possible and Beth pulls away again, her lips deliciously bruised and he wants to throw the damned landline out of the window. “It’ll only take a moment.” She assures, pressing a quick kiss to his lips and stepping out of his embrace.

He’s embarrassingly ready to fuck her right there and he watches her lean against the desk, half undressed and ruined by his own mouth. She picks up the phone, glancing at him one more time. 

“Hello?” Benny kicks his coat away and drops down into the ottoman at the end of her bed, just watching her speak on the phone. The light pouring in from the window behind her makes her look like an angel. “Yeah, of course that’s fine. We can get coffee when I’m back, I promise. There’s even space for you to stay, the house in Lexington is too big for just me.” Benny has never felt this emotion before but he’s almost 99% sure that it’s called jealousy and it’s already started to eat him alive. “Okay, bye.” She hangs up the phone and then turns back to him, a face splitting grin across her lips. She lets out a content sigh and cocks her head. “Hi.” She says softly but it doesn’t work this time.

“Who was that?” he says roughly.

“Uh, Townes.”

He stares at her. “And you invited him to stay in your home?”

She frowns. “Yeah.” She agrees. “I did.”

“Do you think that’s appropriate?”

“Excuse me?”

He chuckles bitterly and the sound grates at her ears like nails on a chalkboard. “Sorry let me rephrase, what the fuck are you thinking Beth?”

“What is _wrong_ with you?” She snaps, reeling from the sudden change in mood. One second they’re morphed into one and the next he can’t get away fast enough.

“He’s clearly in love with you.”

“Are you _delusional?_ ”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” He snaps. “You were in love with him weren’t you?” And Beth feels like she’s been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. How did he know? How in the world did he find out? She straightens and Benny recognises it as a sigh of defence.

“That was a long time ago.” She warns, the blood boiling in her veins.

“So you’re over that now?”

“Benny, you’re...”

“I’m _what?”_

“Well, first of all, you’re being an asshole.” She starts gravely, grappling for a cigarette in this trying time. “And second, I’m not in love with Townes anymore.”

“Why is he staying in your house?” 

“He’s interviewing me for an article and Lexington is a long way out, are you…” she trails off, staring at him with her eyebrows furrowed and confusion swirling in her eyes. “Are you jealous?”

 _Yes. Yes. Yes._ “No.”

“Right.” She clicks her tongue. “So you’re just being a dick. I see.”

“Exactly.” He agrees quickly, refusing to let the little green monster show its face to the world.

“In that case.” She starts again, lighting the cigarette and blowing a puff. “Get out.”

His eyes widen, only momentarily and only partially. “What?”

“If you’re going to behave like an asshole for no reason then I don’t want you here.” She assures. “So go on, get out.” She points to the door with her cigarette, her eyes hard.

He glares at her before snatching his coat and his suitcase from the floor and storming out of her _really_ nice hotel room, slamming the door loudly behind him. 

Beth rolls her eyes and smokes until they water and Benny stands on the other side of the door, not sure what to do. She swallows to bury the lump in her throat because she’s so frustrated she could scream cry into her cigarette. This was so stupid, she barely even understands what it was about. 

Benny spends ten seconds calming down, his breathing returning to regular. He takes a few deep breaths and now that he’s no longer clouded by jealousy, he realises how stupid he’s been. He turns back, maybe to knock on the door, maybe just to walk back in but he can’t bring himself to do either, that feels like a breach of trust. She asked him to leave so he did, he doesn’t get to barge back in like that’s his right. He sighs loudly and carefully rests his forehead against the door, his eyes screwed shut.

She knows he’s there, she can feel his presence like a cosmic sixth sense. She’s become heartbreakingly aware of his existence in every part of her life and she can’t seem to run away from it. She desperately wants to reach through the door and squeeze the life out of him until he’s hers forever, she wants no one else to get in the way of what is arguably the best thing in her life right now. 

She keeps the cigarette between her fingers as she walks towards the large wooden door and leans against it with her bare shoulder, the skin squelching against the varnished wood.

Her finger traces the designs on it before she speaks. “Benny?” She says softly.

“Yeah?”

“Are we done arguing?” She asks hopefully.

He lets out an audible sigh of relief and smiles like he can’t believe god blessed him with someone like Beth. “Yeah. We’re done.”

She opens the door slowly, like she’s letting him in for the first time and he reaches forward to wrap his arms around her waist and spin her around while she laughs ( _oh my god you’re going to drop me)._ He places her back on solid ground, her bare heels digging into the carpet as she knots his shirt into her fist and pulls his face down to hers. 

“You’re an idiot.” She mumbles against his lips.

“I know” He agrees softly, tucking orange strands behind her ear. “I’m sorry.”

* * *

**AMSTERDAM**

two weeks later and they’re walking through Amsterdam, their arms brushing against each other as they wander through the city. They don’t hold hands though, for many reasons including they’re _cowards_ and don’t express their _feelings_. Holding hands feels too public for a relationship that doesn’t have a label nor even entertained the discussion of a label. Beth thinks that if she asked for a label that she would have to be open to the possibility of losing him entirely.

“I’m thinking of selling the house.” She says suddenly as they wander nonchalantly over a bridge.

“In Lexington?”

“No, my mansion in Hawaii.”

He smirks. “You would probably get a pretty penny for that.”

“Hawaii or Lexington?”

“Both. Neither.” He shrugs and the movement follows up and down the exposed skin of her arm. She picked a hell of a day to wear a sleeveless dress. “Where would you go?”

She sighs. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

He nods, staring at his feet with his palms clasped behind his back. He’s fighting he urge to reach for her hand, he feels like a little kid with his stupid crush. “Jolene?”

“She’s busy with her studies, living with me is not high on her list of priorities.” She points out, her eyes following the curves of the trees and tall buildings. “Russia was nice.” She adds as an afterthought, barely registering that she even spoke.

He stiffens, his posture frightfully straight. “Nice enough to live there?” he asks carefully, his voice measured and even.

“Maybe. I have contacts there, friends even. I wouldn’t have to start from total 0. More like 0.1.” she seems wildly unaware of the dilemma he’s currently going through but that’s only because she had more preparation for it than he did.

“Friends, huh?” He comments absentmindedly, avoiding her eyes.

“You’d like them.” She mentions, smiling and his heart squeezes because she’s not smiling about him but about her stupid friends in stupid Russia. “They remind me of your friends in New York.”

He scoffs. “Marxist drunkards?”

“How did you guess?”

“I’m surprised Russia has those.”

“None of them are technically Russian.”

“Like you then.” he remarks but his heart is breaking inside his chest and he feels like he could crumble to pieces. “Sounds like the perfect place.”

She’s surprised he agrees. “You think?”

He grits his teeth. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know, I think… I think I would miss the US.” _I would miss you._ “I have friends there too.” _tell me to stay here, tell me to stay here with you, just say it, just say it._ She desperately wants him to say something, anything, _Just don’t go._

“You should do what’s right for you, Beth.” 

She swallows, avoiding his eyes as they continue to walk across the canals of Amsterdam. “You don’t see a reason as to why I should stay?”

There’s only a momentary pause where he might _actually_ say something, he might actually tell her he- “No. Do you?”

Her heart falls to the pits of her gut and she thinks she could throw up. “No.”

Neither realises the other’s heart is just as broken as their own. They’re both too busy trying to save face, trying to hide how they really feel. They’re very good at hurting each other, not very good at liking each other.

He sucks in a sharp breath, cricking his neck. “We should get back.”

“Right.” she agrees, nodding.

And that's how two of the smartest people they’ve ever known, make a stupid decision that they both instantly regret but are too stubborn to walk back on.

* * *

**NEW YORK**

Beth doesn’t presume that she can stay at Benny's for the New York invitational, nor does she ask and neither does he offer. She gets set up in another hotel room that he would say is nicer than his and she doesn’t know _how_ she knows but she can just feel it in her bones that he won’t be knocking on her door at any point this weekend. She can’t place the feeling in her gut but it’s something like disappointment and sorrow and like she misses him already.

They’ve barely spoken, in fact, they haven’t spoken. Not even once.

Every time her phone rings she sprints across the house nearly tripping over her own two feet but it’s never him. She considers calling him, once, twice, three times. Her fingers itch to dial his number and just hear his voice but she can never bring herself to take the plunge. 

It feels strange to be in New York alone. In other words, it feels strange to be in New York without him by her side. Every memory she has of this city includes him, his house, his face, his voice, his snarky comments and immeasurable narcissism, it feels wrong to be here without him. He doesn’t come to her games, she doesn’t see him in the crowds nor does she see him hanging around anywhere in the hotel. He’s well and truly _not_ here.

And that grates at her more than she is willing to admit. By the second day It drives her to wrap herself in a coat, hail a taxi and head straight to his underground cave. She feels silly, like she should turn back now why she still has her pride intact. Her body moves on its own accord and knocks before she can tell it not to.

He swings it open, wearing that stupid kimono and a surprised look on his face. “Beth?” he says, like he doesn’t quite believe that she’s standing before him.

“You didn’t visit.” she says simply.

“Uh, no I didn’t.”

“Why?”

He cocks his head. “You want to do this now?”

“When else are we going to?”

He sighs. “Alright.” and then steps away from the doorway to allow her in. She shrugs off her coat and swings it over the banister, walking carefully through his home like she’s a guest even though she lived here once. “Would you like something to drink?” he offers, more as a default.

“No.”

“Okay.”

They stand on either side of his shitty dining table, just like they used to when he was teaching her how to be a better player. This feels strangely nostalgic but it settles in the forefront of her brain like a painful reminder of what they used to have that was simple and unfiltered. “Why are you being strange.”

He responds too fast. “I’m not.”

“You didn’t call.” she points out.

“Neither did you.” well, he’s not wrong there.

She can’t help but stare at him. Her fingers feel hot and her throat feels tight and she feels dizzy like she could pass out. She swallows, her voice soft and quiet when she speaks. “I… I missed you.” she feels like she just gave away a piece of her heart for him to do as he pleases. He could close his hand into a fist and squeeze until she can’t breathe and she would simply let him.

He licks his lips, his eyes hard. “Not enough to stay in the US.”

“What?”

“You said there was nothing keeping you here.”

She stares. “ _You_ said there was nothing keeping me here.” she almost cries, her voice disbelieving.

He sighs loudly, running a hand through his hair like she’s seen him do a hundred times before. “Beth, I get it, Russia was good for you, who am I to stand in the way of your happiness?”

“Benny, I-”

“It’s okay.” he repeats but his eyes are sad and she thinks his heart is breaking too. “I understand and I don't… I can’t stand in the way of that.”

Her shoulders drop like she’s given up, given up pretending, given up being alone, given up lying to his face. She can’t keep doing this, she can’t keep acting like she's okay with this, one of them has to make the first move and it’s clearly not going to be him or maybe she misread the whole situation but it’s too late now because- “But _you_ make me happy.”

You’d think she slapped him by the way he flinches. His jaw sets and his eyes are glazed over with a layer of ice. “Don’t make this harder for me Beth.” he warns. “I’m trying to be a good friend.”

She scoffs bitterly, her eyes narrowed and her hands balled into fists so that she doesn’t do something stupid like punch him. Or kiss him, she’s still deciding. “Oh, is that what we are, _friends_?” she mocks and the word tastes like poison on her tongue, she honest to god never wants it to pass her lips ever again.

“Yeah. friends.”

“I don’t want to be your friend.” she says roughly.

He seems surprised but it doesn’t last long. “Alright then,” he says slowly, crossing his arms over his chest like he’s protecting himself from something. “Fuck off.”

She doesn’t even miss a beat. “No.”

“No?” he repeats.

For the first time in this conversation, she steps away from the table that separates them, like it’s some metaphor for the barrier they uphold between them. She feels exposed and vulnerable and her voice is excruciatingly honest when she speaks. 

“Benny I don't want to be your friend because that’s not good enough for me.”

“What?” he breathes, this can’t be, this can’t be, this can’t be _happening_.

“I’m sick and tired of us dancing around the subject.” she huffs angrily. “I can’t pretend anymore Benny, Fuck Russia.”

“ _What?”_

“ _Fuck Russia.”_ she repeats. “Fuck it, i couldn’t give less of a fuck about Russia or moving there or anything else I just want you, you self obsessed imbecile, I can’t just have the you I get when I see you once I a month, that’s not enough because I want all of you.” she sucks in a sharp breath and holds it for the impending blow of rejection but at least then she’ll know, at least then she’ll be able to move on without expecting him to knock on her door in every new city.

He smirks but his body is suddenly on edge, every hair is pricking upwards and he can feel his heartbeat in his feet. “You called me an imbecile.” he comments, like that was the only thing he heard.

“Stop dancing.” she orders.

He hesitates for a moment, his feet rooted on the spot where he’s safe on the other side of the table. But this is Beth and she’s made her feelings clear which they don’t do or at least _he_ doesn’t do, and if he doesn’t do _anything_ then she’ll probably go to Russia just to spite him.

“Okay. No more dancing.” he agrees, moving around the table to stand unobstructed before her. He wrings his fingers together anxiously, looking around like he’ll find courage in the lining of his walls. He looks like he’s been put through hell and his eyes are more vulnerable than she’s ever seen when he finally looks her in the eye, clearly the nerve built up. “I love you.” he says matter of factly, like he didn’t just reach into her chest and violently yank her heart out just so he could hold it and claim it as his own. “I have loved you from the moment you beat me at speed chess.”

The smile he gets in return is blindingly brilliant and it knocks the air out of his chest. He wants to immortalise that smile on the inside of his eyelids so that he can see it even when his eyes are closed because he’s never experienced it before, not this unadulteratedly happy. “Looks like I win.” she remarks. “I’ve loved you longer.”

He stares, eyes wide and dumbfounded. “We’re so fucking stupid.”

She carefully reaches for his hand, tangling her fingers in his and it feels like they’re doing this for the first time. It makes sense that it feels that way because this _is_ the first time. It always felt too intimate for an undefined relationship and even now as they hold each other’s hands it feels like a private moment they’ve interrupted between two people who have been the centre of each other’s worlds for years now.

He never realises just how much he wanted to simply hold her hand, to hold her face and tell her that he loves her. He never thought this day would come, it never even crossed his mind that she could feel even a modicum of what he felt and he wonders if he’ll wake up tomorrow and discover it was all a dream. He could live with that if it meant he would have some kind of memory of finally having Beth to himself, even if it was just for one night, and even if it was all fake.

“Hey, Benny?” she says softly, her thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“Yeah?”

She looks up from their intertwined fingers and focuses on his face. “Ask me to stay in New York.”

“What?” he says dumbly, his heart pounding against his rib cage like it could burst out of his chest.

“Ask me.”

He smiles, his other hand caressing her face as he pushes the hair away from her cheek and behind her ear. She unknowingly leans into the movement with a satisfied sigh. “Beth Harmon.” he starts. “Will you stay in New York?”

She places a soft kiss against his palm, tears stinging the corner of her eyes. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be, Benny Watts."

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think my lovelies i'm straight up obsessed with them x


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